


Homeward

by commandershakarian



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Battle at Denerim, F/M, Grey Wardens, The Archdemon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-04 01:39:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6635812
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/commandershakarian/pseuds/commandershakarian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leila Tabris ponders her fate as she prepares for the Battle of Denerim.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Homeward

The darkness had only just descended when Denerim came into sight. Leila Tabris, for the first time since learning that her true fate as a Grey Warden was to die fighting the Archdemon, faced her friends for what was most likely the last time. She kept her words short and to the point, not wanting to waste time while her home was burning. Each goodbye was difficult, but the hardest farewell had been the one she’d least expected.

Riordan, the most senior Grey Warden she’d met since Ostagar, stood in the shadows, watching the city on the horizon, a pensive expression on his handsome face. He was exhausted, that much was clear, but he also appeared defeated. He knew what lay on the other side of those walls for them. He knew his duty no matter how unfair it seemed. He had become a Grey Warden and must act as such.

Leila didn’t want to die for Ferelden. The atrocities done to Shianni, to the alienage she’d grown up in, to the elves across the country, it had to be stopped. Change had to start somewhere and if it started with her death, then so be it. But the fear of losing her friends, of losing her family, had created a divide between her and those she traveled with. She wished to be close with them, to know them intimately, but the fear of loss had prevented her from succeeding.

Despite what was happening within the city walls, the night was quiet. Eerily so.

Riordan didn’t glance at her when she appeared beside him, his silver-blue eyes quietly watching the light in the distance. Leila imagined the alienage she grew up in burning, the flames consuming the dusty buildings. A warm breeze tossed her soft, dark hair around her face, strands whipping into her eyes and bruising the skin on her cheeks. She hoped her family was safe from the fighting. She hoped that the alienage would survive.

She hadn’t noticed the hot tears rolling down her cheeks. Her thoughts were full of despair and fear that nothing else could touch her mind. Riordan’s rough fingers wiped them away a few moments after they’d fallen, waking her to reality. She glanced at him, confused. A soft smile pulled at his lips as he watched her, refusing to hide the fondness he felt for her.

Those eyes said so many things to her in the span of a second, but what mattered to her was the tenderness there. They barely knew one another, but they had managed to find comfort, at least for a little while. They were two people who had lost so much in this war. Without each other’s presence the night before, they might have given up. Leila knew that much was true for her.

She could feel the tears against her mouth when their lips met. His kiss was desperate, the bleakness of their situation settling upon them. Her hands worked their way into his hair slowly, as if anything more would break him, break her. She didn’t want to let him go. She didn’t want to return to the present. If she did, she would have to face what was next.

If they parted, she might never see him again. He might never see her again. They would have to face death like the wardens before them had. As Duncan, Narcisse and the other wardens at Ostagar. Like King Cailan had.

That would be too much to bear.

The walls she’d tried to build up around her to keep everyone out had crumbled beneath this man’s gentle touch. She would do anything to keep them from this fight, but it was selfish of her to think such thoughts. People were dying and would continue to die without the wardens.

Riordan was the first to pull away. His eyes searched hers for something, anything, to make what he was about to say worth it. Whatever he’d found was enough. Brushing her hair behind her pointed ear, he met her eyes, no hesitation to be found. “It’s time. I know what must be done and I must do it alone. You and Alistair have to be ready in case I fail.”

Leila nodded, biting her lip to keep herself from sobbing. She didn’t want to hear these words, but she knew that she had no choice. This was the way it was meant to be. If only they had met sooner… if only they’d had more time…

He lifted her hand in his, running his thumb over the skin of her palm. She had missed this feeling: admiration, respect, love. It gave her a slight flare of hope.

“What if you’re wrong, Riordan? What if we survive this?” She heard herself ask, knowing that the words were too hopeful, but not caring. Not if it meant more time with the man standing in front of her.

Riordan smiled sadly. He didn’t appear as hopeful, but stranger things had happened in the past. “If there is a chance that we survive this, I will find you.”

Leila promised the same. He pulled her close to him, pressing a kiss to her forehead, holding her against him for a moment longer than they should have. She didn’t want to leave him, nor did he want to leave her, but they had a duty to fulfill.

“Are you ready to go home, Leila?” He whispered into the darkness.

Tears filled her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. They had a war to win. “I couldn’t think of a better person to have by my side.”


End file.
